Attatched at the Hip
by Made Of Wax
Summary: Thomas Hewitt finds something other than death very interesting...
1. Chapter 1

Getting stranded on an island isn't great. Getting stranded in an abandoned building after an earthquake had struck isn't great. Getting trapped in a house filled with psychotic cannibals is the worst. And that's the position that I am stuck in.

After traveling for two longs days, making my way back to California, my car had broken down. A sherif named Hoyt had seen me, asked me if I needed help getting to a gas station, and soon enough I was put into the back of the cop car, knocked out, and carried into the house.

I was with another person, my brother. We were on a road trip to California to visit our parents for summer vacation. We had just graduated college too.

I had woken up inside their house, tied to the table in the kitchen. I had seen my brother get nails shoved through his hands, hit in the head with one of those sticks that cops carried around, and eventually he had died. He left me alone with this crazy family.

I am still tied to the table. I looked over at their big dusty clock to see that it is almost midnight. Time seems to be getting slower and slower as the night grew on.

The floor that I am laying on is covered in dirt, small bugs crawling around. Once in a while I would hear the sound of a mouse move.

As the time ticked by slowly, I felt myself getting more and more tiered. I tried my best to not fall asleep. I need to be able to pay attention to my surroundings.

As I breathed in a little gust of dust I sneezed, causing more dust to fly up, making things for me more miserable than it already was.

Just moments later I heard someone's footsteps coming down the stairs. I didn't move a mussel as I tried to listen closer to the person who is coming towards me.

I can tell that the person is wearing boots because of the sound it is making as the person is walking across the wood floors.

The closer the footsteps were getting to me, the more I realized that the person is coming from behind me, making me unable to see who it is.

As the sound of the footsteps got closer to me, I felt the wooden floor shake a little with each step that the person is taking. It must be a man, since I'm sure that no woman would be able to make this type of noise.

I felt the urge to sneeze again, but I held it in. I didn't want to make any noise.

I saw the boots right in front of my face. I turned my face up as much as I could, staring at a huge man. Not 'fat' huge, but 'tall' huge. Even though I am on the ground and looking up at him, I can tell that he must be really tall.

His dark brown hair rested on his head, ending a few inches above his shoulders, messy and greasy. His eyes held an eerie look. The leather mask he is wearing puts together the whole 'I'm going to kill you' look and feel that he is giving me.

"Please don't hurt me" I said, coughing on my own spit. When I'm afraid, I over-salivate, making my choke on my own spit. Yea, it's weird.

I felt some spit come out of my mouth as I spoke, making a tiny pool of drool on the wooden floor. Hell, I bet the spit might have made that one little spot somewhat cleaner.

I can hear his breathing. The sound filled the room.

I put my head back down to the ground, closing my eyes. If he is going to kill me, I just want him to get it over with.

Waiting in line in the store or for the movies is just agony for me, but waiting to get killed is just like waiting in line to go to hell.

Slowly I opened up my eyes again and looked up at him. He is standing in the same place from when I had closed my eyes. He is still standing the same way, still looking at me.

I looked at his hands, which would twitch every once in a while. But I also noticed that he isn't holding anything. Maybe he isn't going to kill me.

Or maybe he is going to kill me with his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

After a few more long seconds of having him stare at me, and me still laying on the floor, I decided that maybe he isn't going to hurt me. At least, not yet he isn't.

Just because he isn't doing anything right now doesn't mean he might not doing anything to me later.

Thinking about what had happened to my brother, my only sibling, made me feel all the rage that was building up inside me.

I wouldn't take my anger out on him. If I did, then I would get killed, which is something that I really don't want to happen to me.

But since he is a man, there are some weaknesses that he will have. First off, his groin. One kick and he will bend over in pain for at least 15 seconds. Secondly, I am a girl, he is a boy. Well, a man. And every man has his needs, and I'm pretty sure that he isn't really 'getting any'.

I will use seduction as my last resort though. The last thing that I want is to make out, or even 'screw' this psychopath.

When I saw him kneel down in front of me, I felt my heart beating in my throat. My jaws clenched. I started to sweat.

I could hear him breathing. All I can hear is him breathing and my heart beating rapidly. That's all.

A million thoughts are going through my head. But the biggest thought is what is he going to do?

Maybe he will tear me limb from limb, eating my flesh. Maybe he will bang my head against the floor multiple times, knocking me out and tie my body up. Or maybe even choke me to death.

I saw him put his hand on my head. His hand is so huge. I bet he can crush my skull if he squeezed my head hard enough.

But he did what I least expected him to do. He started petting my head slowly and gently, my soft hair against his tough hands.

I didn't move at all as he continued to feel my hair. If I wasn't so scared, I would have enjoyed this. I love it when people play with my hair, but I can't let myself enjoy this. At least, not with him.

I closed my eyes, trying to imagine that it is Corey Taylor (for those of you that don't know who Corey Taylor is, he is the singer for my favorite band Slipknot) or Marilyn Manson that is feeling my hair.

But no matter how much I tried to think of them, the thought of the grotesque man that is kneeling down in front of me kept going through my head. The scary mask that he is wearing doesn't look like it is a type of mask that he would buy from a store.

I'm sure he made it out of something dead. I can smell it.

When the tips of his fingers touched my cheek as he continued caressing my hair, I started trembling even more.

I kept my eyes closed. Once in a while I would squeeze them shut even more, making a few tears drip out of them once in a while.

I can feel my nose running. I hate it when I cry, because my nose will always get runny. I didn't bother wiping away the snot. I can feel it slowly running out of my nose, dripping off of my lips.

I held in my sobs and didn't make any movements.

Seconds felt like hours to me.

More time has passed and he has finally stopped touching me. He is still kneeling down in front of me, but all he is doing is staring. He tilted his head just a little to the right, like he is thinking.

He moved his hands to my wrists where they are tied to the table. He untied one hand when I heard someone coming into the kitchen.

"D*amnit Thomas, what did I tell you about playing around with her? You keep your filthy hands off of her" I heard the sheriff yell.

I saw him walk right next to Thomas, grabbing him by his greasy hair and yanked him up. II saw Thomas cower a little in fear.

So this means I need to worry about Hoyt more than Thomas.

"Get back to your room" Hoyt said in the meanest voice I have ever heard.

"Now, what should I do to punish you for pulling your little girly charm to try to get Thomas to untie you from the table?" Hoyt said while putting his hands on his belt.

At first I didn't know what he was going to do, but when he started unbuckling his belt, I knew what was going to happen.


	3. Chapter 3

"You know, I haven't seen a girl as pretty as you in quite some time" Hoyt said, still working at taking his belt off. My left eye twitched a little as he finally got his belt off, dropping it onto the floor.

"See, this is your punishment for trying to get Thomas to set you free, and it will be fun for me. So it's a win-win situation. Well, for one of us" Hoyt said, letting out a small laugh and his lips curled into a smirk.

Hoyt was about to un-button his pants when I heard someone running upstairs, and then a loud crash that sounded like a lamp broke.

"What the hell is going on up there?" Hoyt yelled as loud as he could, causing him to bend over a little and cough.

Little did Hoyt know that one of my hands was part way untied already, so with all of the strength that I found in my body, I ripped my semi-free hand out of the rope, and punch the old fake-cop-b*astard right in the nuts.

I waved my free hand in the air, wishing that the rope burn I got from pulling my hand so hard would go away already.

Hoyt fell to the floor, curling up in a ball and groaning in pain from the punch I gave him .

I heard someone run down the stairs. I was hoping that whoever it was would run over to me and help me, but instead they ran the opposite direction of me and I heard a large metal door slide open.

After a few seconds the sound of a chainsaw tearing through the air made me nearly p*iss my pants.

I looked toward where the sound is coming from, to see Thomas revving his chainsaw that he is flailing around in the air, trying his best to be intimidating. Well, he doesn't really have to try all that hard to be bale to intimidate me....


End file.
